


Courage to Trust

by hanyou_elf



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 06:11:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanyou_elf/pseuds/hanyou_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Have enough courage to trust love one more time, and always one more time.” Maya Angelou</p>
            </blockquote>





	Courage to Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the hd_smoochfest with the incredible abuse and cheerleading of zhem1x5

Sex with Harry Potter is intense. The brunette has some serious intimacy issues and they’re probably easily explained, what with the whole world’s safety riding on his shoulders for at least five years. He seems too terrified to make close connections to anyone even though he owes it to himself.

The whole of the British Wizarding society owes him their lives, their gratitude. Harry should be placed on a pedestal and worshiped. And sex with Harry reflects Draco’s opinion. Harry won’t ever demand it for himself, insists that he would never have managed to come this far if not for the overwhelming support of those around him. His supporting cast.

Draco was not a supporting cast member, not by any stretch of the imagination.

Instead he was self-serving and vindictive, something he is paying for now. Especially when considering the pointlessness of even being allied with the Dark Lord.

He knows he was stupid for what he did. Knew it even before the end, but he’d little choice. It was blind obedience or death for himself and his mother. And he refused. But he hadn’t expected retaliation to be so brutal.

Draco had known they wouldn’t be particularly forgiving of him after the war. His namesake was a powerful figurehead of evil, to some even on par with the Dark Lord himself. People looked at the Malfoy family, and its fortunes, with disdain. Reparations alone had nearly bankrupted the family.

And worst of all for Draco had been the added insult of his parents ritualized, and there much publicized, suicides. After all of that, when the Wizengamot had been assigning punishments, the Ministry had done an invasive study into his magical heritage. What they’d found had blindsided him.

It made him question every single sexual encounter he’d had. Until Harry.

The Mediwitches had called it a compulsion. Draco could desire another enough that he could incite a compulsive reaction in his potential partner. All of Draco’s partners in school had understandably been Slytherin. Had he simply been horny enough to compel them to react to him?

And he couldn’t ask. They were Slytherin. If it would help them, they’d bury Draco alive. He refused to feed them fodder that would allow them to exploit him and his family name. The mediwitches were literally sworn to silence without express permission of the patient in question and the Ministry officials had taken vows of silence and privacy in regards to the results of their study.

Harry is his newest lover. And knowing that he doesn’t react strongly to the full-blooded Veela, he could only figure that it held true for quarter Veela as well.

Draco laughs every time he thinks about the first time he and Harry came across each other. Harry had literally tripped over himself and crashed into Draco. And Draco, shackled as he was with the collar that restricted magical behavior, hadn’t sensed him coming closer until it was too late and Harry was practically straddling Draco’s bruised and prone form.

He hadn’t minded then and he bloody well didn’t mind whenever Harry was so inclined now.

Draco had felt the hot rush of heat through him and had known that if his magic wasn’t restrained, he would’ve turned the compulsion on and slid right into Harry’s bed.

_“You alright?” Harry asked, his voice soft, his head bowed. He looked contrite and uncertain. And beneath the careless fluff of his dark hair, it was a ridiculous look. He expected Harry to be proud, especially after the much heralded victory._

_Draco nodded and pointed his borrowed wand at the pile of rubble he’d been working on. With a soft ‘Evanesco,’ he banished the rocks around them._

_Harry stood and watched Draco, apparently unable to stand still, which irked the blond. He crossed his arms across his chest and uncrossed them. He shifted from foot to foot. He dragged a hand through his hair, pulled on the hem of his shirt and played with his pockets._

_“Did you need something?” Draco asked softly after an eternity of fidgeting._

_“Why did you come to Hogwarts?” Harry asked in return._

_“Where have I spent the majority of my life, Potter? Hogwarts is my only home.”_

_“Are… I know they chained your magic. Are you okay?”_

_“I feel like a child who is stuck in that moment when magic first manifests itself. I am being treated like a newborn! My nephew can perform stronger spells than I can with the magic I am permitted to use.”_

_Harry nodded slowly, as if he could ever understand the difficulties of the loss of control over one’s own life. He had always been loved and needed. Draco envied him his life- even the hated insane villain obsessed with him. The whole of the Wizarding community had been focused on Harry Potter at one point in time._

_“Do… When do you finish your sentence?”_

_“The majority of it is being served over this school and the hols. After, I’ll have my magic tamped down and I’ll be free to live as I please amongst the Muggles.”_

_Harry nodded and shuffled awkwardly for another slice of eternity before he spoke softly: “I’m glad you’re alright, Malfoy.”_

Maybe it’s the war. Maybe it’s the fact that Harry has few friends surrounding him at Hogwarts, but Harry is different. He doesn’t laugh as much as he used to. And he’s lost the brash edge that made him exciting and dangerous. Perhaps the most telling of all though is Harry’s intense timidity. Draco loves this Harry. He adores being deferred to, being close to another. He relishes the knowledge that the relationship that he’s making with Harry, strange and unique as it is, is perhaps the most honest relationship that he’s had since his sixteenth birthday.

He knows the magic of his Veela nature isn’t influencing Harry. And it’s not influencing himself either. He wants Harry, but it’s honest lust. It’s honest want. He likes the way Harry fucks. The way Harry touches him like Draco’s something that deserves treasuring. For Harry, each minute they share together naked is an act of some god.

Not that Draco doesn’t return the favor. He loves to take his time. He drags his fingers over every inch of Harry’s skin. He kisses every pore. He memorizes every scar the brunette carries and is slowly learning their stories.

Harry is one of the most powerful wizards to have ever existed. But when he’s stripped bare and exposed to Draco’s searching gaze, he’s also the most vulnerable. He doesn’t trust in the strength of his victories; in the power of his scars. Which is incredibly thick of him considering that the world’s most famous scar is on his bloody forehead.

On Harry’s worst nights, Draco can’t even light a candle. Harry refuses to look at himself and he fears the horror in his lover’s subjection to them. The sad thing is that while Harry may be ashamed by them, Draco finds them beautiful. They are perfect representations of the conflict Harry had dealt with and blessedly overcome.

Draco wanted to help Harry get past the desperation he felt when it came to himself.

It’s one of those nights tonight. And as much as Draco wants to let Harry hide in the shadows, hide behind the sting of penetration, he wants to push the brunette into something better than himself. He needs to make Harry understand that he doesn’t care about the scars. That he isn’t ashamed of what Harry considers imperfections. He’s going to make sure that Harry knows how much he wants him.

Harry waits in the center of the bed, candles lit all around the small room they’re sharing. Draco was given a small room of his own in the castle, nothing special as all those involved in the rehabilitation were given small rooms. Places of privacy where they could reflect and repent and rebuild themselves to be better members of Wizarding society.

Draco is supposed to be reflecting in solitude this evening. But he doesn’t do well with that. Instead, he would prefer to be here with Harry. He adores the various ways they come together. Harry is exciting in bed when he’s wrapped in the cover of darkness. He’s almost methodical in the light.

Draco is determined to change the pace tonight. He wants to enjoy the depth of emotion that he knows he can pull from Harry. Eventually he needs to make Harry understand that once the school year starts in five months, things could change. Draco’s term is over in August, just days before school starts.

With Harry laid out before him, Draco kneels at the foot of the bed between Harry’s spread legs. He rests his newly calloused hands on the rough skin of Harry’s calves. The brunette is pliant for now, the candlelight is gentle enough for him to feel relaxed and allow Draco to look his fill, even though he’s obviously uncomfortable.

He slides his hands over Harry’s body, tracing the natural and graceful curves of his fit body. His lips take the same path up the center of Harry’s body. He starts low on his flat stomach, amid the rough trail of hair that nestles Harry’s slowly rising erection.

Draco tongues Harry’s belly button, easy in a slow and soft circle before slipping his tongue deep into the dip of Harry’s naval. His hands wrap around slender hips and he just takes the time to nuzzle at Harry’s body. He kisses a trail from his belly button to the right wing of Harry’s hip.

There is a scar that runs along his hip and wraps around to the curve of his butt. Draco closes his eyes against the soft gasped inhalation and the shocked tensing of Harry’s body. There will be so much more of it tonight and Draco hates it but he understands that Harry is terrified and unbelievably self-conscious.

Harry never struck him as somebody who cared about his appearance. During school, his clothes never truly fit him, they were stretched beyond belief and grey washed. He’s older and his clothes fit better now, but he doesn’t enjoy nudity before his lover.

Draco traces his tongue along the exposed scar along his hip. He presses baby soft kisses at the ending point closest to Harry’s groin. Harry’s hand wraps in his hair and pulls just enough that Draco knows he’s reacting.

Draco mimics the move on Harry’s scarless left side and closes his eyes sadly as the hand in his hair relaxes just a fraction.

The worst scars are over Harry’s torso and chest. It’s nearly impossible to get him to take his shirt off sometimes. Draco doesn’t want to judge, but he hates Harry’s cowardice. The brunette refuses to let his guard down when he’s naked. And no matter how often Draco tries to reassure him, Harry just can’t let go.

He can understand the hesitancy though. Draco’s biggest turn on for so long had been another man’s appearance, power, and prestige. His partners had understood the importance of these things.

Before Harry.

Draco slides his body closer to Harry’s. His hands trace up his muscled stomach. Harry breathes in hard, pulling his stomach in. His hand pulls on delicate blond hair. His eyes are closed when Draco looks up at his lover. He sighs softly and crawls up Harry’s body. “Trust me,” Draco murmurs softly.

Draco leans over Harry, letting his panting chest brush against Harry's with every breath. Their chests meet in the void of space and it's good. But Draco wants- needs- more. He needs Harry to look up at him. He needs to drown in those impossibly green eyes and demand to know the truth hidden behind them.

He needs to know that even though Draco is going to push him to the very limits of his tolerance, Harry isn't going to freak out on him and ruin this evening. Draco doesn't want to hurt his lover but he knows they need to focus on the here and now. After, Harry can have his break down, if he's still got the energy.

Jade eyes blink slowly at him and Draco's breath is stolen for a long moment. He rocks his body down into Harry's and groans at the desperate contact between their erections.

Harry's hand slides from Draco's hair to his shoulder before it slips up to wrap around the back of his neck. It's a touch full of fear and self-consciousness and Draco hates it. He can feel the tremor in Harry's fingers and see the shame in Harry's half opened eyes. He looks broken and Draco would give anything to fix his lover.

But Draco can only do as much as he's able. He leans down and presses a chaste kiss against full lips and murmurs promisingly, "I've got you, Harry."

Harry shivers and his eyes clench shut against the onslaught. He turns away from the blond and breaths deeply. His body is shaking and Draco can't help that, but he's going to take his time tonight. Harry will come apart beneath him.

He drags a hand down Harry's chest, his fingertips deliberate over the scarred chest. He traces the hodge-podge scars that criss-cross his lover's torso while planting soft chaste kisses against Harry's lips. Across the seam, the corners, beneath the plush pout of the bottom lip, the cupid's bow of the top.

Harry's eyes are closed, as if it's too much for him to believe that Draco could possibly worship him like this. He clings to the bed and the skin of Draco's neck. His breath is stuttered and gasped, panting as if he'd done a lot of running.

These scars are Harry's story. They tell of his strength and the courage he'd had when facing the Dark Lord. How in the face of torture so extreme, he'd stood strong and powerful and bravely.

Even during torture, he hadn't cracked.

The longest scar across his torso drags from above his missing left nipple to right above his belly button. He'd been sliced open and his nipple removed in the face of the Dark Lord's rage. Harry had had to pretend he was dead while he'd been tortured.

When he'd stood at the foot of the stair leading into Hogwarts, Harry was buried in another man's clothes. His wounds had been bleeding sluggishly- honestly, the dead don't bleed! How daft had the Death Eater's been in the thrall of their excitement? He'd stood, trembling before the crumbled ruins of the castle and uttered his final curse.

Rumors of Harry’s immortality still persist but Draco knows that it was only because of the knowledge that Harry wouldn’t have been able to rest until after he’d killed the Dark Lord that had kept him going.

Draco wants to wipe the self-loathing truth out of his jaded eyes. He wants Harry to believe in him, wants Harry to know that no matter what happens Draco would never leave. He knows that the brunette has abandonment issues. He knows that if he wants to make what they have together last that he needs to prove himself.

But he doesn't know how.

Instead, he'll take everything that Harry is, everything that Harry was, and reshape them into the new thing that only Draco will know. He will create for himself something new and unbroken. Something that is beautiful, even if it is run through with chips and cracks. Something damaged, but whole.

Draco kisses deeply. His tongue traces every inch of his mouth, seeking every level of flavor he can find. His lover is delicious. His eyes are clenched shut and his hand is tight around the muscles of Draco's neck. Draco rocks down into Harry again and smirks into the kiss when Harry jerks up into the motion. Draco rubs his palm flatly over the scarred flesh. Harry tenses beneath him and Draco doesn't give him a chance to react too much. He bites lightly at Harry's lower lip and spreads his knees apart so he's resting groin to groin against Harry.

The first time Draco and Harry had sex, it was like this. Draco had Harry prone on the bed, his hands fisted in the dark hair as he rocked and pressed against Harry's hardness. The brunette hadn't fully stripped for their first time, which Draco hadn't minded- it added to the rush of lust surrounding the whole thing.

Harry had used his hands and tongue to open Draco up to a good fucking. And when he'd finally slid into Draco's body, it had been like coming home.

Even without the possibility of the compulsion driving them together, Draco couldn't think of another person he'd fucked that had fit him better. Draco had wrapped his hands in Harry's hair and clung tightly to him, pressed chest to chest, lip to lip, and buried deep in Harry's lap. Harry's erection had seemed to burn against every inch of his body internally. He hadn't come until Harry had, burning and claiming him from head to toe.

Tonight, as much as Draco wants a repeat of it, he needs to give Harry something else. He needs Harry to understand how little it matters to him that he's scarred. The scars actually work in Harry's favor- it makes him sexier and rougher and manlier.

Draco breaks the kiss with a wet noise and grinds down into Harry with a wicked promise in his eyes. He rocks against Harry again and nips gently at Harry's jawline. He doesn't stop his slow and steady mouthing along the long neck and jaw until Harry's hands wrap around his waist. "I love you," he murmurs along Harry's neck before he pushes himself upright. His hands slide down Harry's chest, tracing the scars with his fingertips.

The brunette's face closes up in reaction. He seems to withdraw into himself and shudder. Harry is conscious of what his chest looks like, what his body looks like in comparison to Draco's. He knows that he isn't a male model, that most people are only attracted to the illusion of power and strength. But Draco isn't. Not anymore. He hasn't been for a long time. The Dark Lord taught him to look deeper.

Harry whimpered and seems to disassociate himself. His hands wrap around Draco's body, they pull him in tight and hold on. And Draco rocks against him again. He clenches his thighs tight and uses the leverage for a teasing move.

Draco refuses to let Harry stop him though. He presses his lips to Harry's temple and pinches his fingertips around Harry's nipple. His palm slides over the spot where his left nipple used to be, teasing the dead and too-sensitive skin. Harry clenches his eyes and there are tears buried beneath the lids. His body jerks against the gentle touch and Draco's body meets him and rides with him through the movement.

Draco kisses his lover on the temple and drags his hand to their laps. He wraps a hand around the twin erections and strokes teasingly.

"Draco," Harry whimpers softly, rocking his hips up into the blond.

"Shh," Draco murmurs softly. He presses his lips chastely against Harry's and smiles when the brunette licks at him. "I'm going to suck your dick. Lick your arse till you're begging me to fuck you. And then I will. Right through the mattress."

Harry trembles and jerks against Draco before he moans and nods hungrily. "Yes, please," he pleads softly.

Draco presses a soft kiss to Harry's lips and pushes him against the bed so he can slide down the lithe body to blow against Harry's erection. He licks his lips and without warning, swallows the salty tip. He expects the surprised jolt of Harry's body and follows it. When Harry's hips are against the bed again, he swallows again and takes Harry deep. He wraps his fingers around the heavy balls, teasing and massaging.

Harry's hand is buried in blond strands but he doesn't push, just rides the movement of Draco's head. And Draco moves, his lips swallowing the turgid length, his tongue tracing the ridges and valleys of the velvet flesh. He swallows, relishing the natural and unfettered taste of Harry.

With his tongue teasing against the bottom of Harry's flared head, he swallows the leaking pre-come and thrusts a finger deep into his lover's body. Harry's body tenses and he clenches tight around Draco's finger. Draco flicks his tongue against the long vein on the underside and nibbles teasingly beneath the flared tip.

"Relax," Draco whispers as he blows air across the heated tip. He murmurs the charm that spreads warm lubricant over his fingers and puddles it in the palm of his hand. "I've got you," he promises.

He laps at the swollen curve of Harry's sac, licking through the coarse hair. Harry trembles as he rocks against his tongue. He's relaxed enough that Draco can slip two fingers deep into his lover's body. He teases him, spreading his fingers and curling the tips before he pulls them out. With a kiss to the inside of Harry's thigh, he leans back and demands Harry lift his arse into the air. When he does, Draco slides two pillows under Harry's hips.

"I promised you," Draco murmurs. Before Harry can comment, Draco buries his face between the spread cheeks of Harry's arse and starts to lick his way into the brunette's body. He doesn't get very far on the first pass and just flicks his tongue around the rim. Draco groans at the dark taste as he jabs his tongue into Harry’s body.

Harry's body flinches around Draco and he pulls on the blond hair. Draco snorts and nudges his tongue deeper. He won't stop until Harry begs. He slides his tongue deep and presses two fingers into Harry's body, curling them in the opposite direction of his tongue.

Harry reacts almost instantaneously: "Draco!" he whines. "Bloody hell! Please!"

"What do you want?" Draco asks with a smirk on his face. He presses a kiss to Harry's bollocks and laps at the salty skin.

"Please," he begs softly. "Please fuck me!"

Draco needs nothing else. He pulls his fingers free and climbs up the lithe body. He wraps the hand that he'd conjured the lube with around his erection and strokes himself firmly before he lines up. He thrusts into Harry hard and doesn't stop until he's buried bollocks deep. Harry groans and relaxes slowly around the hard flesh. Thrusting into Harry is the same as the first time. He trembles as he waits a long minute for Harry to move, and just breathing in the sweaty smell of their bodies together- a smell that is theirs and only theirs.

Harry didn't bottom for a long time because he never wanted to be naked. Every time he spent the night with Draco he was either glamoured to hide his imperfections or he was covered in t-shirts that hid his chest. It was almost three months before Harry agreed to let Draco fuck him. And it had only been with the heavy resignation of somebody going in to a fight.

Draco had believed that Harry had been raped and that was why he didn't want to bottom. But he hadn't been. Instead, he was just paranoid about his appearance. With the lights low, Harry had been able to submit. And it had been heaven. Like nothing he had ever dreamed of. Harry was tight and perfect. He'd nearly lost it when he'd pushed into Harry the first time.

Draco brushes his hands down Harry's chest and cups his slim hips. He uses it for leverage to ride Harry. He's tight and he groans with each movement.

"Fuck," Harry whines. He rocks down against Draco, a counter movement that drives Draco deeper. It makes him insane with how deliciously hot it is. Harry's legs wrap around Draco and he trembles as he rides closer and closer to orgasm. Draco wraps a hand around the turgid flesh of Harry's erection and strokes strongly. He presses deep into Harry's body and strokes up the length, fluttering his fingers around the tip.

"N-Not gonna last," Harry pants.

"That's alright," Draco murmurs softly. "Come for me."

It is a few more thrusts and a handful of strokes before Harry's body tightens impossibly and he’s coming, spilling messily over Draco's elegant fingers and Harry's scarred chest. Draco thrusts into his impossibly tight hole and grunts as he comes, filling Harry's body with scorching and wasted seed. He sighs deeply and collapses on Harry, clinging to him. "Fuck," he pants.

Harry wraps his arms around Draco's back and holds him tightly. "Love you," he whispers softly.

Draco shivers in Harry's arms and nuzzles under his chin. He'll pull out of the tight grip of Harry's body when he's softened. Until then, he's happy to stay as mixed up with his lover as he can. Harry likes to cuddle. He likes to have his body tangled up with Draco's. He likes arms crossed, legs joined, and his head against Draco's chest- or vice versa. It had taken some getting used to but once Draco had, he couldn't sleep well without it.

After long nights, or nights full of Harry's nightmares, they cuddle. Harry likes to drape himself over Draco and Draco likes it. Tonight, Harry needs it. He lies beneath Draco, his arms curled around Draco's back, his face pressed against Draco's neck. It's comfortable.

"What are you going to do when your term is over?" Harry asks softly. His lips whisper against Draco's skin teasingly.

Draco shifts on Harry, nuzzles his body against the brunette, and shrugs. "Find some place and settle down."

"In the Wizarding world?"

"No. Maybe? Either something Muggle or a mixed society maybe. My magic is going to be permanently limited. And I'm not going to stay in the manor."

"Come with me?"

"Where?" Draco asks. He pushes himself up to rest on his forearms on Harry's chest. Lazily, he traces a fingertip across the scarred side.

"Godric's Hollow. I have a small cottage. We can... we can stay there?"

Draco smiles. It's a sweet thought. He's a beautiful man with a large heart. But Draco has to admit, the idea is bloody brilliant. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

"Move in with me."

Draco smiles and leans up to press his lips against Harry's. He closes his eyes as his tongue slides into Harry's mouth. He nods slowly and lets his body melt against Harry's.


End file.
